


Today Was A Fairytale

by orphan_account



Series: SPN Writing Challenge [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Commoner Dean, First Kiss, Happy Ending, M/M, Pining, Prince Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 15:10:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6709900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Balls never have and never will be Dean's thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Today Was A Fairytale

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [SPN Writing Challenge](http://spnwritingchallenge.tumblr.com) April 2016 "Phrase prompt"-themed prompt: "After everything that's happened, you're just going to leave?" 
> 
> So. Cinderella AU with a bit of a twist because why the fuck not. I love Cinderella.

The candlelight from the chandeliers overhead give the ballroom a soft, ethereal glow as Dean walks in from the foyer, eyeing the guards standing stiffly by the doors and staring absently at nothing and everything. He tugs on the collar of his dress shirt, tight around his throat despite the overall comfort of the fabric, and smooths down the front of his blazer, removing non-existent wrinkles.

Below where he stands at the top of a grand staircase, couples glide across the marbled floor, bright ballgown skirts swirling in large circles as the men twirl their women around to the waltz being played. Dean watches mesmerized for several long seconds before his gaze is caught by bright blue eyes sparkling up at him, and he returns the warm, bright smile with a smaller one of his own, finally making his way down the stairs.

“I was almost afraid you weren’t coming,” Cas says shyly, meeting him at the bottom of the staircase. Dean looks around at the dancing couples again.

“I almost didn’t,” he admits. “But I couldn’t let down Sammy and Adam like that.”

Across the room, Dean finds his brothers talking animatedly, watching everything with wide, wonder-filled eyes. He feels a weight lift from his shoulders, and he figures just being able to see that kind of happiness in his little brothers is worth an hour or two of his own discomfort.

Cas is smiling softly at him when Dean looks back at him. “What?” he asks, and Cas just shakes his head.

“You never cease to amaze me, Dean Winchester,” the prince answers enigmatically, and holds out his hand for Dean. “Anyway. I believe you owe me a dance.”

Dean eyes the gloved hand, long, slender fingers encased in the finest silk the land offers, and slides his own calloused hand into it, squeezing it gently. “I believe I do, your Highness.”

Cas laughs, and Dean lets him drag them to the middle of the floor. The orchestra begins a new song, another waltz, and Dean is swept away in the moment. As he loses himself in the movements of the dance, he forgets everything but the feeling of Cas pressed close, the blue of his eyes, his gentle smile. The nagging worry that he doesn’t belong in this setting, that Cas can do better than some common man, that he _needs_ to do better because no one will accept someone like Dean being with a prince like Cas— all of it falls away, and Dean pretends, even for just a few minutes, that he can have what he wants, that it’s okay for him to be happy.

They dance through the current waltz and the next one, and Dean can feel eyes on them, silently judging him, but he doesn’t care, focusing instead on Cas’ eyes, his lips, the feel of their hands entwined, their bodies pressed together. He wants to lean forward, taste those lips like he’s been imagining since the day they met in the market, Dean there to buy food and other supplies and Cas having snuck away from his duties, just wanting to breathe. They’d literally run into each other, momentum taking them both to the ground, and Dean had been lost at the sight of those big, bright eyes gazing back at him.

Warm breath against his neck pulls him out of his thoughts, and Dean exhales shakily as Cas’ lips brush against his ear.

“Wanna get out of here?” Cas whispers, and Dean shudders. He pulls back to look at Cas, put some distance between them so he doesn’t do something untoward.

“Uh, sure,” he says, and Cas ceases their spinning to pull Dean through the crowd, weaving around twirling skirts and mingling lords and ladies, nobility and gentry and royalty and commoners alike, all there to celebrate the engagement of Cas’ older brother. Dean catches a glimpse of Michael up near the front of the room, by the throne where Queen Naomi sits watching her subjects and guests enjoying themselves. His fiancée, a Countess from the neighboring kingdom, laughs with a bright smile at something Michael whispers in her ear, and Queen Naomi smiles secretly at them.

Breaking free of the party-goers, Dean follows Cas through the empty halls of the castle, taking in tapestries and décor and suits of armor lining the walls. Simple candelabras glow dimly, lighting their way with a soothing, calming warmth. Their footsteps echo softly against the marble floor. Outside the windows night has fallen, the sky a deep midnight blue dotted in stars.

Moments later, they emerge from a set of side doors that lead to the gardens, and Dean inhales the sweet scent of rain in the air, a cool breeze caressing his face. Cas smiles teasingly over his shoulder, and Dean feels his heart skip a beat at the way the lights from the castle make his eyes glow. Releasing Dean’s hand, Cas takes off at a lazy run through the garden, and Dean chases after him, laughing and carefree.

He catches Cas around the waist as they stumble into the secret part of the garden that Dean knows from stories spoken in soft tones that Cas loves to come to when he wants to escape, to get away from lessons and meetings and having to be a prince. They laugh together, breathless and panting, falling to the ground as Cas trips over Dean’s feet and brings them both down. Cas lands first, and Dean falls on top of him, and they catch their breaths staring into each other’s eyes. As their breaths even out, Cas reaches a hand up, gently cupping Dean’s face, and Dean leans into it automatically, unable to resist.

“Dean…” Cas breathes out softly, and Dean finds himself leaning down, their lips barely brushing—

The clock tower in the distance chimes loudly, startling them, and Dean pulls away abruptly, blinking away what he was about to do. Cas bites his lip, sitting up as Dean pushes himself up, looking up at Dean with large, confused eyes.

“Dean—”

“I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean says, stumbling back. He needs to get out of here. “I just— I can’t.”

Cas scrambles up, following after Dean and reaching out for his arm. “ _Why,_ Dean? Why can’t you? _What_ can’t you?”

“ _This_!” Dean pulls his arm from Cas’ grip, hating himself for the hurt that fills those blue eyes. “I can’t do _this,_ Cas!”

“Why not?” Cas looks angry now. “Why can’t you? I thought—”

“Because!” Dean explodes, and suddenly he can’t stop. “You’re a _prince,_ and I’m just—” Dean gestures to himself, his plain shirt and coat, his shoes with the slightest bit of scuff, not polished like all the others, and certainly not like Cas’. “I’m just a commoner, Cas,” he says, defeated. The truth, the one he’s been trying to avoid thinking, hurts worse in spoken words. “I don’t belong here, in a castle with royals and nobility and fancy parties. You deserve better than that.”

_You deserve better than me._

“What gives you the right,” Cas starts, and Dean looks up at the dangerous, hurt edge in his voice, “to tell me what I do and do not deserve?” Cas steps forward, pressing right up against Dean, and Dean swallows the burst of heat and want that fills him. The clock finishes its chiming, loud rings filling the otherwise quiet night. “What gives you the right to decide you’re not worthy of me?”

“I’m _not,_ Cas,” Dean says, head falling forward. He lays it on Cas’ shoulder, unwilling to move away, too tired to fight but unable to let it go. “You deserve—”

“You,” Cas interrupts, wrapping Dean in his arms. “I deserve _you._ I want _you._ I don’t care about anything else.”

Despite himself, Dean’s soul sings with joy at the confession, and he holds onto Cas as tightly as he can. “You should,” he mumbles. “What’s the kingdom gonna think of a prince wanting a commoner?”

“It doesn’t matter what the kingdom thinks,” Cas says firmly, pulling away to look Dean in the eye, his own blazing with intense conviction and love. “Not about me, Dean. I’m not the Crown Prince— that’s Michael, and he’s engaged to a Countess, or did you forget the reason for the party tonight?”

He gives Dean a small smile, and Dean feels the tension in his body begin to ease.

“It doesn’t matter who I want,” Cas continues, stroking a thumb over Dean’s cheek. “If it isn’t you, then it’ll be some Lady or Countess or Princess in a few years, someone who I don’t love and could only hope to, in the best circumstances.”

Dean frowns at that; Cas deserves to be with someone he loves, not forced into a marriage with someone he doesn’t even know. He holds Cas closer, burying his nose in Cas’ skin, where his neck meets his shoulder.

“I’m still not cut out for the royal life,” Dean mumbles into his neck, and he feels rather than hears Cas’ chuckle.

“If you haven’t noticed,” the prince says lightly, “I’m not exactly cut out for the royal life, either. I do everything I can to avoid it.”

Dean can’t exactly argue the point; it’s pretty much the reason they met in the first place. Cas’ fingers massage Dean’s neck in soothing circles, and Dean hums in content.

“Besides,” Cas continues, “I’d much rather live a quiet, working life in the country with you than a life of luxury in the palace without you.”

Dean pulls back to look into Cas’ blue eyes, seeing nothing but love and contentment. There’s still a part of him that whispers that Cas can do better, that he should have a life of luxury and without worry or hardship, but the greater part of him is rejoicing at the fact that _Cas wants me._ He lets his lips spread in a small smile, biting his lip, eyes flicking between the blue of Cas’ eyes and the prince’s plump lips.

Dean licks his own lips and watches as Cas’ eyes track the movement. “For what it’s worth,” Dean finally says, “I’d rather have you, too.”

Cas’ smile could light up the night.

“I’m going to kiss you now, Dean,” Cas informs him, and Dean leans down to meet him in the middle.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: [leviathncas](http://deanjimmy.co.vu)


End file.
